


Rubbish As A Human

by HalfASlug



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 21:23:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10930311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfASlug/pseuds/HalfASlug
Summary: With the Family of Blood after him, the Doctor has no choice but to become human and hide himself in Edwardian Britain. Fortunately, Rose and Donna are there to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. Unfortunately, there is no one to stop them doing anything stupid.





	Rubbish As A Human

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another Human Nature/Family of Blood AU. This time with Donna, Rose, strong language and more crack than is probably wise.

“Have you got a marker pen on you?”

“No, why?”

Donna shrugged. “Thought maybe we could draw on him?”

Rose looked from her friend sat next to her to the alien currently out cold on the floor of his own ship. He looked peaceful enough, his long limbs spread-eagle and his hair flat across his forehead for a change, but after seeing him rewrite his entire genetic make-up she thought he maybe deserved a rest.

“We tried that before - me and Jack,” she reminisced. “He sulked for days afterwards.”

The Doctor twitched and she paused to see if he was going to wake up. They had no idea what to expect from this human version of him. The opinion of humanity he usually displayed had them both worried that the moment he awoke he’d start a war, buy a house and try to have sex with something, possibly at the same time. She’d never admit it aloud, but Rose wasn’t opposed to all of these scenarios. Neither was Donna apparently. Unlike Donna, however, Rose wasn’t wondering if she could maybe get a swanky penthouse somewhere.

“It wasn’t until a week later he noticed what Jack had drawn on the back of his neck in this permanent marker from the future,” Rose laughed at the memory.

“What had he drawn?” grinned Donna.

“If you knew Jack, then you wouldn’t have to ask.”

Before Donna could start her well-practised I-want-to-meet-Jack-purely-for-world-saving-reasons routine and convinced Rose they could do with a nice Welsh holiday after this ordeal was over, the monitor blared to life. The pair rushed to it, hoping for an update on the Doctor’s condition or their current situation. Once the static had cleared they were presented with the Doctor’s silly grin.

“Rose! Donna! If you’re watching this then I’ve already became human and am likely unconscious somewhere on the TARDIS.” He sobered up, the crinkles by the corners of his eyes smoothing out and his lips in a hard line. “Now, I trust both of you completely. So, unless you already have, please don’t draw on me.”

“He knows us so well,” Donna whispered and Rose was surprised to see how touched she sounded about his prediction.

“Don’t panic. The TARDIS will give me a backstory and sort everything out. There should be enough residual awareness to let you both in as well. Don’t let me abandon you.”

“I’d like to see him try,” muttered Rose and the TARDIS let out a low hum of warning. She rolled her eyes. It wasn’t like tearing the ship apart was her answer for everything.

Excluding, of course, that time she and Donna had made cocktails, ran out of ice and she had sworn she had a foolproof way of getting some more. Thankfully, the Doctor caught her before she could rip the console open with nothing but a tiny umbrella.

“Don’t let me hurt anyone. It’s unlikely but you know what humans are like,” the Doctor continued and Donna huffed at the insult. “Two - Leave the TARDIS. She’ll be on emergency power. C - no, three - Don’t let me eat pears. I hate pears, but he won’t know that. I can’t wake up in three months and have that taste in my mouth.”

“Glad to see he has priorities straight,” snorted Donna. “Evil supervillain family is after us, and this is the help we get!”

They both glared at the Doctor, who was still innocently sleeping on the floor. “When did he record this anyway? We’ve been here the whole time.”

Donna furrowed her brow, unable to give a proper answer. Before either of them could more thought into it, the Doctor’s voice reminded them that they should probably pay attention to his instructions, however fruit-based they may be.

“I’m leaving the sonic here,” he informed them, pulling it out of his inside pocket. “Can’t have some human playing with it.” He held it up to the camera and looked out at them imploringly. “Don’t let anything happen to this. It should be okay, but don’t play with the settings. I’ll know if you’ve played with the settings, Donna.”

Donna spluttering quickly morphed into a disgusted noise when, for reasons only known by and best kept to himself, the Doctor licked the screwdriver before putting it down.

Rose smiled fondly before she could stop herself. There may have also been a hint of a sigh. Maybe.

“You should not be finding that attractive,” Donna said, eyeing her with something between horror and sympathy.

“I-I’m not.”

Rose tried to keep eye contact with Donna and her bloody knowing look, but found that it was too difficult. Instead she watched the Doctor, hoping she looked more like she was concentrating on his words and not the way he was smiling at them. Unfortunately, this didn’t help her in the slightest.

“There’s something wrong with you,” Donna told her.

On screen the Doctor launched into a detailed description of how, if they had landed in a time or place where they didn’t have bananas, they could get some and give him them so his potassium levels didn’t drop. Rose couldn’t help but admire the way he pushed his hand through his hair, making the whole speech seem even more vital to his survival.

Maybe Donna had a point.

“Oh and thank you,” the Doctor smiled proudly at them. He leaned forward to turn the camera off, but sat back at the last minute with a stern expression. “If either of you use this as an excuse to get me drunk then I will take you to the Milky Way’s biggest astrophysics convention. And you will have to stay with me throughout and only leave when I’m bored. Okay?”

“Worth it.”

“Definitely.”

“Good luck.” He smiled one last time and the monitor went blank. Rose realised this would be the last time she would see the Doctor’s smile for three months and watched the steady rise and fall of his chest. She stripped off her hoodie and placed it under his head. Watching him use the Chameleon Arch had been horrible and she stroked his cheek in the hope that he didn’t still feel the effects.

“Rose,” Donna said. She sounded serious so Rose went to her side, glancing back at the Doctor to check she hadn’t woken him.

Donna pointed to the monitor and Rose saw that the TARDIS was giving them details of their location through the local newspaper. By the looks of things, they would be staying in the quiet village of Farringham in 1913. Most of the local news mentioned featured an all-boys boarding school that was situated on the outskirts and a cricket tournament that had been called off due to a ‘geese related incident’.

“1913?” mumbled Donna. “Couldn’t have landed somewhere with a TV, could he?”

“Or a chip shop?”

“Nope, just imminent war and syphilis.  _ Wizard _ .”

“Look at this.” Rose pointed to a story about the history teacher landing his dream job as a circus performer in London. “That has got to be the Doctor’s influence. Yeah, bottom paragraph. 'Jackson is to be replaced by John Smith, acclaimed blah blah blah.’ So he’s made himself a teacher.”

“Which means,” Donna said, tapping the button to change the page until they reached the classifieds. “He’s probably made space for us, too.” Rose had barely finished reading the first box (“Mrs Hill’s farm. Stable cleaner needed. No free horse rides. Biscuits will be provided.”) by the time Donna had read the entire page and found the relevant options. This was her territory, after all.

“There’s two jobs going at the school.”

“No surprises there.”

“First is a nurse’s position. Accommodation and meals provided.”

“Sounds promising,” Rose said, “but won’t we need a medical degree or something?”

“Nah, I’ve got my first aider certificates,” she said proudly. “This is 1913. Can’t be too different.”

“So that’s you sorted, Matron. What’s left for me?” Rose scanned the page and narrowed her eyes. “I swear, if it’s dinner lady again…” she muttered. Although, she reasoned, still looking for her new job, it really couldn’t get much worse than dinner lady.

* * *

Two months later, Rose Tyler was wearing an itchy uniform while scrubbing the floor on her hands and knees with nothing but an old brush and hot, soapy water.

“So much worse than a dinner lady,” she grumbled under her breath as her hands slipped and she scraped her knuckles on the wooden boards.

“Hmm?”

Abandoning her inspection of her latest graze, Rose smiled reassuringly at Jenny. “Nothing. Just a - um - expression. Say it all the time in London.”

Jenny shook her head and continued working. “You don’t half say some mad things.”

Rose smiled at her newest friend. Life would have been unbearable without Jenny around to lighten the mood and to dismiss mentions of things like mobiles and Brad Pitt. Admittedly, Rose wished that some of the ‘mad things’ she said didn’t include the time she asked about having a week off, but things could have been worse. They could have been found by the gaseous whackjobs set on killing the Doctor to become immortal, after all.

As Jenny chattered on about mops, Rose reminded herself of this as she heard the now-familiar sounds of the entitled, stuck-up wankers she had to clean up after approaching. It’d been weeks since she had referred to them in her head as children and it made her feel ten times better.

“You’ve missed a bit,” Baines jeered.

She could sense Jenny tense up next to her as she bowed lower over the floor. That, mixed with the month spent watching this brat terrorise half the students and staff, made Rose’s blood boil.

“Where?” she said sweetly, sitting up straight. Out of the corner of her eye she could see one of the other boys staring at her chest and she wondered what would happen to these boys the first time they saw a girl their own age.

Baines smirked, plucked a piece of paper from his bag and scrunched it up. “There,” he said, dropping it directly in front of Rose.

The lads gathered behind him laughed like it was the funniest thing they had ever seen. Although, Rose thought as she smiled politely, TV hadn’t been invented yet so it could well have been.

“I’ll be sure to get it, sir,” she said in a syrupy voice that made Jenny look up beside her. She picked up her scrubbing brush, frowned at the litter as though trying to work out how best to tackle the problem and then lobbed the brush a Baines’ head. “Sorry!” she cried as he ducked, unfortunately dodging the projectile. “My hands are a bit slippy.”

“You little-”

Baines didn’t have chance to finish his insult as one of the teachers came striding into the hall, gown billowing behind them. Between those gowns and the lack of proper heating, all they needed were a couple of ghosts and a monster or two and the school could easily pass for Hogwarts.

“Baines! Stop harassing the staff!”

“But, sir-”

“I saw what happened, Baines, which means I saw you were antagonising her. Now, away with you!”

With one last glare that Rose met with a look of suppressed glee, Baines strode off, muttering about teachers going soft and women getting ideas above their station. When he was finally gone, Rose turned to the teacher who had saved her and, as she always did when they met, felt every muscle in her body contract and her stomach turn.

Once he was satisfied the boys were out of earshot, the Doctor’s eyes found hers. In normal circumstances, there would be a hug, lots of smiling and dirty thoughts aplenty but this was far from normal. In fact, the only thing that was normal was Rose appreciating how good he looked when he was angry.

“Is that any way to behave, Rita?” he hissed at her.

“Rose.”

“What?”

“My name,” she explained as though talking to an idiot. “It’s Rose.”

“That’s what I said,” John Smith replied dismissively. “It is totally unacceptable to assault students! I should report you for this.”

Rose nodded as she bit her lip. She was trying to take him seriously, she really was, but that damn tassel on his cap was just hilarious.

“This is your final warning,” he said, pointing a finger at her. “Now get back to work.” He headed for the stairs and Rose mock-saluted the space he had been standing. Just as she was about to retrieve her brush, John’s voice called her back.

“And it isn’t professional to wear so much eye make-up to work, Rita,” he added sternly. “This is a school. Not a - a -  _ It’s a school _ !”

Rose sighed as he climbed the stairs. He was just similar enough to the Doctor for his treatment of her to hurt, but not enough to gain any real comfort from it. Jenny sensed the downturn in her mood and patted her shoulder consolingly.

“I don’t why he’s so hard on you. Maybe he secretly fancies you!” she giggled as though she had said something scandalous and Rose sincerely hoped that when - not if, but when - she snapped and slapped him that Jenny would be there to see it. It would be worth any punishment just to see her face.

“Don’t worry about it, love. He has his head in clouds half the time anyway.”

The problem, Rose knew, was that he didn’t.

* * *

 

Despite not having had chance to go to the TARDIS for a proper shower for a couple of days, Donna was having a decent enough day. One of the boys had been a bit homesick - something she could relate to - and they had ended up swapping stories (highly edited in her case) of home for an hour before he had cheered up. Another one of the boys had given himself a twisted ankle after he fell down the stairs. He would have also received tea and sympathy if weren’t for Donna knowing it was because he had been staring at Rose’s arse as she polished the skirting boards. Instead he was given the foulest tasting cold medicine she had at her disposal and told it was a painkiller.

It might have been an abuse of position, but these little oiks really could do with some associative therapy when it came to their blatant misogyny.

Smiling to herself at the memory of his grimace as she walked down the corridor, she was surprised when a large pile of books walked into her.

“Watch it!”

“I’m sorry!”

She should have known it was him.

While John Smith was still bumbling about, nattering on about his lack of balance and whatever, Donna had retrieved the fallen books and took the top few off the pile until she could clearly see his face.

“Hello,” he smiled, still blushing.

“Not causing accidents is a lot easier when you can see, y'know?” Donna scolded him.

This only led to more rambling. Really, John Smith was exactly like the Doctor if he were an idiot child. Stumbling about the place, grinning inanely for no reason - it was sort of sweet. It was the best disguise he could have wished for, really. No self-respecting bad guy would suspect that this imbecile was an all-powerful Time Lord. Even if it weren’t for the Family of Blood after him she’d feel inclined to protect him from the dangers of world.

That said, in this state, he found particularly sharp folds in his trousers dangerous.

“Really, though, it’s no trouble. I can take them all from here.”

Was he still talking?

“I’m sure you can, Mr Smith,” Donna said politely. “Why don’t you just take the books from me, then?”

John’s face lit up and Donna waited while he tried to take the three books she was holding while still balancing another five in his arms. “Ah.”

“That took you a while to work out,” Donna smirked.

“Well, it could be done.” He frowned, his head tipping to the side in thought. “Hang on, if I-”

In a truly spectacular display of dexterity, John dropped his books onto Donna’s pile, causing them all to crash to the ground.

“Well done, you numpty,” sighed Donna as he stooped down to fix his mistake. He blinked up at her, his cheeks glowing with embarrassment, and she decided to take pity on him. “How you managed to become a teacher I’ll never understand.”

As she knelt down, tuning out John’s bumbling defence of himself that sounded half-arsed even to her lack of attention, Donna spotted one of the books had fallen open to a page covered in pencil sketches. Dropping a book about Crimean War back down, she snatched it up for a closer inspection.

“Oh - no, that’s not- I-I mean,” John stuttered, the books he had managed to collect once again ending up on the floor. “That’s just my- erm…”

“I didn’t know you could draw?” Donna said with a smile. She was surprised more than anything. Even these few sketches would have taken hours and she hadn’t known the Doctor to sit down that long without being tied to the seat in question.

John’s nervousness faded slightly as he ducked his head. “I wouldn’t say I could draw, just-”

“Oh, get over yourself,” Donna laughed, swatting him with the book. “These are a brilliant. They look just like her!”

As soon as Donna had spoken, John glanced down at the drawings, his brow furrowed. “Just like who?”

And Donna had thought the Time Lord version had been oblivious about these things… “Rose, dumbo.”

All traces of pride and shyness were gone from his face now. She’d seen this man try to lie and knew he wasn’t nearly good enough to pull off this level of ignorance. “Who?”

“Rose? The maid? Blonde? Pretty? Looks identical to these pictures?”

John shook his head. “No… Not ringing any bells. Actually, erm, Matron-”

“Oh, come on, Mr Smith, these all look like her!” She flicked through the book and found more sketches of Rose in between ones of his TARDIS and alien life forms. It looked as though the Doctor truly was still locked in the man somewhere. “All these other pictures though… They’re a bit weird.”

“Well, the thing is,” he mumbled, trying halfheartedly to take the book back from her, “they are all things I see in my dreams.”

Donna held up a double page spread. “You dream of all these blokes?”

“Oh, they’re all me.”

“Figures,” Donna snorted. “So you dream about a box, a girl and these hideous monsters?”

Now that he saw she wasn’t laughing at him or the idea of his dreams, John seemed to be fighting off showing how enthusiastic he was about his sketchbook. He showed her drawings he was particularly proud of and explained all about how he dreamt of the Doctor’s life without realising what they really were. The tales of a two-hearted alien probably should have shocked Donna if she’d actually been an early twentieth century nurse, but she couldn’t help but laugh along with her friend as he recounted stories of his past without the usual dark shadow in his eyes. When they were all just stories to him, where the people never lived so they could never really die, it was all just an adventure that he loved every minute of.

“So the girl that looks like Rose,” Donna said pointing to one of her with a pickax that she was definitely going to be asking her about later, “she’s just a girl in the dreams?”

“Yes… well, she’s not just a girl. Not to the Doctor,” John said with a faraway look in his eye.

When they were all finally back in their right minds on the TARDIS, Donna swore that she would bring this moment up as much as possible whenever she started hinting at all the tension in the ship. She understood the precarious nature of their relationship well enough to not do anything more, but watching both of them deny it while not really denying anything was too much fun to resist sometimes.

John turned the page with a silly half-smile that was quickly wiped from his face once he turned the page. Thankfully, Donna was too quick for him and snatched the book away when she caught a glimpse of the drawing he was trying to hide.

“That’s just-” John tried to explain, but there wasn’t any excuse he could come up with, especially under Donna’s open-mouthed shock.

On the page was a beautifully detailed sketch of her own smiling face. Unlike the drawings of Rose, however, where she was dressed in her usual modern day clothes, in the picture Donna’s nurse uniform was clearly visible.

“You drew me?”

John opened and closed his mouth enough times to cause a draft. “Yes?”

“Am I in your dreams?”

“Sometimes.”

“But not as a nurse?”

“No.”

Donna studied the portrait again. A lot of the sketches had been simple line drawings, whereas only a few of Rose looked as though any proper care had been taken. It was as though he woke from these dreams and pencilled the basics of the characters and objects while still half asleep most of the time. This one clearly wasn’t from a dream and he was, once again, blushing and edging away from her. It was all a bit paint-me-like-one-of-your-French-girls for her liking - and she’d heard from Rose what he could be like with French girls.

A horrible idea crept slowly from the pit of Donna’s stomach, towards her brain, where it would be given a name and would never be forgotten.

“You made my nose look weird,” she sniffed, pushing the book back at him.

John looked from her to the book pressed against his chest a few times before taking it in his hands. “Oh,” he said dejectedly.

“Stick to the dream girls with the noses you can draw, eh?”

“But I like your nose.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, John’s face turned bright red and he sucked in a breath as though he could vacuum the words back out of the air. Donna was just as upset as he was when they both realised that that wasn’t how it worked.

“You… like my nose?” she asked numbly.

For a moment, John froze, as though his own line was even more embarrassing having it replayed back to him. Then, horrifyingly, he found the strength within himself to not run away and pretend this never happened (much like Donna did) and stood up straighter. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

John nodded. “And - the erm - the rest of your face.”

Donna gawped at him as, for the first time in living memory, words failed her. She’d seen enough times where the Doctor responded to people they met flirting with him, not knowing they were faced with the impossible challenge of a possibly asexual ancient demi-god who was hopelessly in love with another girl, to know that this was as close to out-right flirting as he was ever likely to get. It appeared that his amazing prowess with women had transferred to this human version.

“Nurse Noble?” he ventured after she’d spent a good thirty seconds only able to make an odd squeaking noise. “May I call you Nurse Noble? There’s this - well, I saw a poster for - it’s only a small thing. Could probably be fun though. Most of the village will be there. So - er- will you?”

“Will I what?” Donna whispered.

“Go to the -” He gestured at poster on the board behind her, apparently too flustered to speak.

It was for a village dance. He wanted her to go to the village dance.

“With me?” he clarified, rubbing the back of his neck.

Somehow, she’d got more of a romantic declaration out of the Doctor than Rose had without putting in any effort whatsoever.

“No,” she laughed nervously. “Not a chance.”

She almost regretted her response as she watched John Smith try to cover the fact his heart was breaking with a series of strange nods and coughs.

“Sorry, John,” she said kindly, trying to catch his eye. Sometimes it was hard to remember that this wasn’t the Doctor but a nice enough man who must spend half of his time slightly confused. “I’m sure there are other women who would love to go with you?”

“Really?” he asked, though he looked as though he wanted to bolt.

“Of course!” Donna replied. “You’re… nice.”

“Nice?”

“And… sort of… handsome,” Donna gritted out, hoping he didn’t ask for specifics because she really would struggle. “In a way.”

It was almost funny how much he resembled a puppy who had just heard the word ‘walkies’. Almost.

“But I’m not interested,” she continued kindly. “Sorry.”

“Of course. Didn’t expect… I mean…” He shook his head and gestured over his shoulder at the wall behind him. “Lessons. So…” And without another look at her, he had disappeared down the corridor and into a room Donna knew to be the maths classroom. She waited a few seconds for him to slowly emerge, looking to see if she was still there.

“I teach history,” he chuckled somewhat hysterically and almost ran the rest of the way to the end of the corridor, where he slipped on a rug and tumbled down the stairs.

“Nutter,” she sighed, picking up the books he had left scattered over the floor. While single and very aware of her biological clock, Donna swore to herself there and then that, no matter how dire circumstances became, she would never settle for some kind of semi-human version of the Doctor.

* * *

 

Though it was cold, Donna and Rose still wrapped themselves up in jumpers, coats and scarves and sat at the picnic bench opposite the local pub. Another week had gone by and while John Smith had fully recovered from the bumped head and bruised ego after his fall, he was still nursing a soft spot for the new nurse. According to Donna, there had been no more invitations to the dance but he had apparently memorised her routine so he was able to appear from nowhere to escort her down corridors. The gesture would have been nice but journeys became much more dangerous with him around, what with his tendency to trip over pesky patches of air.    
  
"This afternoon he insisted that he carried my bag to the staff room," Donna complained.   
  
"Doesn't sound so bad."    
  
"I didn't have a bag."   
  
"Oh."   
  
Rose was saved from dwelling on how the Doctor used to walk her to her bedroom door every night by Dave, the young bloke who worked at the butchers, walking over to them with two pints in hand.   
  
"Here you go, ladies," he smiled, handing the drinks over. "Cor - it's bleeding freezing out here."   
  
"Yeah, but it's worth it to wear my new coat," Donna replied. Rose grinned into her pint. It had been fifteen minutes into a silent battle between woman and Time/Space ship before Donna found an era-appropriate coat that she liked.   
  
"You could always just apologise to Jim, you know. I'm sure he'd let you back on his property. Maybe even let you order your own drinks again," Dave suggested half-heartedly.   
  
Rose scoffed. "The day we apologise to that pig, is the day we ride naked into town on Mrs Hill's horse."   
  
"Too right!"   
  
Rose and Donna clinked their glasses together while Dave struggled to look like he wasn't thinking about nude woman upon stallions.   
  
"If he thinks we're going to put up with his crap about women not being allowed to vote then he's got another thing coming," Donna added, glaring at the cozy pub.   
  
It had been the first week here that Donna had successfully got them barred. One sexist comment from the landlord about the suffragette movement and she'd unleashed a tirade that turned the air blue. It probably wouldn't have been so bad if Rose hadn't suggested that the reason he felt so threatened by woman had to do with him overcompensating for something. As it was, both of them had been escorted from the premises after the landlady had laughed a little too loudly at her comment.   
  
It had taken about half an hour for them to realise that this was the only pub, or in fact establishment of any kind open after five, in a ten mile radius. Fearing they would have to spend the duration of their time in Farringham in bed by eight and away from useful local gossip, Donna had hatched a plan. Rose, playing the part of an over-dressed siren, managed to lure a few of the young men from the village over to the bench over the road from the pub. Rather than drowning them, however, she simply flirted her way into getting them to bring her and Donna drinks.   
  
Rose suspected the Doctor would be rather proud of their ingenuity, though probably not of her flirting with the majority of the under-30 male population of the village. All six of them.   
  
A knocking drew their attention back to the pub. Through one of the windows, Jim the landlord was glaring at them, cleaning a glass as menacingly as he could.   
  
"Best get back," Dave said sadly. "Gimmie a shout when you need a top up."   
  
Donna thanked him but Rose had spotted the familiar outline of a man, pulling his collar around his ears against the cold as he made his way to the pub, to notice. The door opened, light and laughter spilling out onto the gravel outside as he allowed Dave entrance before entering himself. A different kind of cold swept through Rose as the door shut behind him.   
  
"Cheer up," Donna sighed, nudging Rose's shoulder. "At least he's there somewhere. It could be worse. He could be trapped in a different universe or something."   
  
"Don't," warned Rose with a shiver. "That nearly happened once."   
  
"How did you manage to get out of that one?"   
  
"Well, there was this-"   
  
"Nurse Noble!"   
  
Almost falling off her seat as she spun around, Rose looked up to see John Smith beaming over her head. He'd obviously forgotten about the cold as he had dropped his collar and she couldn't help but notice how red his ears and nose were. It was odd seeing him so affected by the elements after years of him being immune to almost all weather.   
  
"Just spoke to Dave from the butchers, he said you were out here. Would you like a drink?"   
  
Picking up her still-full glass, Donna gave him a fixed smile. "Just got one, thanks. Why don't you ask Rose?"   
  
John frowned but otherwise took this latest rebuttal well. He glanced at Rose who gave him a hopeful grin. "Looks like she has one as well. I must say, I admire your spirit. Not many women could brave such cold."   
  
"Keeps the drinks cold," Donna shrugged. "Rose was just saying how she barely notices the cold anymore."   
  
With her back to John, Rose glared at Donna who did her best to look innocent.   
  
"Talking of drinks, I'd better get one," John answered as though Rose hadn't been mentioned. "Sure you don't want one, Nurse Noble?"   
  
"Still haven't finished the one from three seconds ago, Mr Smith."   
  
"Right." Blinking as though he could somehow refresh his brain and come up with another reason to stay and talk, John gave them a little wave and hurried back to the pub.   
  
"Why do you keep doing that?" Rose hissed the moment he was out of earshot. "It's bad enough with him ignoring me by himself. No need for you to give him more excuses."   
  
Donna downed half her pint and grimaced. "So he leaves me alone. Do you have any idea what it's like to have him looking at me with his bloody eyes all round and lost, like I'm the answer to the flippin' universe?"   
  
Rose went to fiddle with her earring before remembering she wasn't wearing any. Thankfully, before Donna realised her reaction, a bright green light flashed across the sky, illuminating the entire village in an eerie glow.   
  
"That can't be good," groaned Rose, hitching her dress up in order to get off her seat. Donna was already standing at her side by the time she'd freed herself and the two of them began running down the lane.   
  
"Stop!" cried a voice from behind them. Used to following his instructions when he sounded that worried, both of them turned to see John Smith in the middle of the lane. "You can't go running into the dark! It's only a harmless meteorite - a tiny part of-"   
  
"Oh, shut up," snapped Rose. It was one thing having this man steal the Doctor's face, but hearing him use his voice to lecture her in a slightly patronising way was too much. Was nothing sacred?   
  
"Excuse me?"   
  
Not bothering to reply, Rose sprinted up towards the direction of the light once more, almost certain it wasn't anything harmless.   
  
Behind her she heard Donna shout, "Don't you think righteous anger makes her look pretty?"   


* * *

  
She could have been in a jacuzzi right now.  
  
Watching John Smith bumble around his room, attempting to make tea without scolding himself, all Donna could think of was bubbles and that scented candle thingy back in the TARDIS. Today was one of the rare days that the tiny terrors the school housed had managed to get through the day sans injury and that meant she could've sneaked across the fields to have some time to herself. Halfway to the exit she'd bumped into a nervous Rose and her plans had fallen to pieces.  
  
"Have you been avoiding him?" she'd began without preamble.  
  
"'Course I have. He got me flowers yesterday."  
  
Really, she should have known something was up when Rose started chewing on her thumbnail. "Can't you just spend a bit of time with him? I saw him earlier when I was giving him lunch and he looked really down."  
  
"Oh no." Donna backed away and shook her head while Rose had the audacity to look surprised. "Don't play your games with me, Tyler. Bat those eyelashes all you want, I am not spending time with that idiot."  
  
"Donna, it's the Doctor," implored Rose, her voice cracking. "We can't abandon him and he hates me. Please."  
  
Though she had seen the Doctor fold to this technique a million times and teased him about it every single time, she still struggled to stand her ground. Could Rose perform hypnosis?   
  
"Just tonight." Rose gripped her arms and lowered her voice. "One of the kids - Timothy, I think - he's been acting really weird. If something happens to the Doctor and we-"  
  
"Okay, okay," Donna interrupted gently. "It's probably for the best. Leave him alone for too long, he'll have an accident and we'll be left explaining to the Doctor how he ended up with lamp-shaped dent in his forehead."  
  
Something about the way Rose smiled at her joke made Donna pull her into a hug. She'd always been the kind of girl to laugh with abandon, but the cracks were beginning to show in her strong facade. Two months of having the alien best friend she could barely hide her love for overlooking her and Rose was still trying to make his life better. It was worth putting up with John Smith's nervous attempts at flirting to put Rose's mind at ease.  
  
Or so she had thought at the time.  
  
Now he was sat next to her on the sofa, his hair that had been perfectly combed when she had arrived, now the victim of his own hands, gazing at her as though he wished she could read his mind. Donna almost wished she could as well. It'd be a lot quicker than waiting for him to get his words together in understandable sentences and out of his mouth in the right order.   
  
"So - er - if you don’t mind me asking, of course - is do you, that is to say, if-"

“Before we’re dead.”

“There isn’t someone else is there? In your life? Romantically?”

The hope glinting in his eyes was so strong it was almost a physical thing. It’d probably have made his eye makeup run if he’d been wearing any.

“No,” she told him. She’d been tempted to lie but she wasn’t entirely sure that wouldn’t have ended up with John demanding some kind twelve paces at dawn situation with her fake suitor and a whole host of other issues.   


John shuffled marginally closer. “No one should be alone.”

“Oh me?” Donna scoffed. “Nah, I'm fine. Right as rain.”

Worryingly, John appeared to have committed fully to his part and wasn’t going to let something as silly as her complete lack of interest stop him from finishing his little speech.

“But you could be left as… um...”

Just as John was about to struggle through what was undoubtedly be an entirely unromantic simile, the door slammed open. In threshold stood Rose, hair falling from her bun and chest heaving with exertion. For a second, Donna was incredibly scared she had came to reclaim her man. She wished she’d asked more into those mentions of her being the Bad Wolf and whether that meant she was liable to have her throat ripped open.

“What?” cried John, jumping from his seat. “Roberta, what do you think-”

“Forget my name one more time,” Rose threatened, “and breakfast tomorrow will be blended pears with a side of aspirin!”

“Stop with this nonsense! You have been told - repeatedly - about knocking before entering a room. What’s more, you have no need to be here! Unless there is cleaning or-”

There was a loud crash and the other occupants turned to see Donna stood by John’s desk, half of the contents of which was now scattered across the floor.

“Clumsy me,” she sighed. “I guess now she has a reason to stay.”

Caught out momentarily, John struggled to find an argument against this and Rose seized the opportunity to hastily search the mantlepiece, muttering under her breath as she went.

“C’mon, c’mon… bloody thing has to be here somewhere-”

Donna circled John to Rose’s side. “The watch? Why do you need it?”

“I’ll explain later,” Rose whispered in reply. From this close to her, Donna could see the perspiration gathered on her brow and the fear in her eyes. “Right now, we’ve got to move.”

Rose hurried to the desk and began opening and closing drawers. “Why did we leave it with this idiot?” she exclaimed.

“Excuse me-” John said but stopped when Donna placed her hand on his arm.

“Quiet, dear, she needs this.”

Rather than blowing her fuse, Rose startled Donna by taking a deep breath and holding her hands out as if she could somehow push her anger away. “No. I'm staying calm. We  _ can _ find the watch and get out of here.”

She rushed forward, grabbed Donna’s hand and pulled her towards the door. If her grip was anything to go by, Rose’s anger management solutions only affected her tone of voice.

“But I was in the middle of something!” protested John, still stood in the middle of the room halfway between indignant and lost.

Donna gripped the door frame in order to give him one last pitying look. “You really weren't.”  

Before she could see or hear his response, she was yanked down the corridor and, hopefully, towards the end of this nightmare.

 

* * *

 

What had started off as a promising race to find the watch and the denouement of their time in Edwardian Britain, ended up with them being in more trouble than Donna could have guessed. That was saying something, given how setting foot outside the TARDIS with Rose or the Doctor usually ended in some kind of mischief. She never thought she’d be the sort of person who could list their top five prison cells, but that was the twist Donna Noble’s life had taken and normally she wouldn’t complain.

However, she was currently standing in a dingy town hall with an alien gun held against her temple by a middle-aged man. Opposite her, Rose was in a similar predicament with one of the brattier boys from the school. Between them stood John, frantically looking around his surrounding area with much more distress than either of them were showing despite not being directly in the line of fire. Typical bloke.

Although, despite his unwanted advances, Donna couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He was sweet and well-intentioned, but couldn’t have any idea what was happening to him or why his life was in danger.

“So who will it be, Smith?” taunted the boy holding Rose. “Your lover or your friend?”

“Friend?” spluttered John. “She's my servant!”

Rose visibly bit her tongue.  

“And his only lover, sunshine,” Donna fired back, “is right there, attached to his wrist!”

“What?”

“You know…” Donna cleared her throat and fixed a smile on her face at John’s frown. “The hand you... write all those lovely poems with?”

His face melted into an expression of such wonder it took a good twenty years off his age. “You read them?” he breathed.

“MATTER AT HAND, ANYONE?”

“Right. Yes,” John coughed at Rose’s outburst. “Let them both go! I'm John Smith! I-I'm nothing else! This is madness!”

“Sister of Mine heard differently,” smirked the boy, a manic gleam in his eye. “She says she heard the maid call you the Doctor. Now, why would she do that? Hmm?”

John cast around for an answer, sweating profusely. Before he could come up with anything, Rose jumped in for him.

“Maybe because she's bored to fucking tears of cleaning up after slimy cunts like you!”

The seconds that followed were filled with so many gasps and broken glasses that Donna was certain that someone was going to inhale a shard of glass. Not that anyone would notice because they were busy gawping, pale-faced, at Rose. Even the Family looked appalled and they were on a murderous rampage through the galaxy and hardly a good compass for social conduct.

Meanwhile, Rose didn’t appear to be aware of any of this and was breathing heavily. 

“Tyler!” managed Donna eventually.

“Oh what?” she snapped. “Three murderous aliens march in looking for  _ another _ alien and  _ that _ is the part they're all shocked by?” Some of the rage left her eyes and her expression became somewhat desperate. “I haven't even heard someone say arse aloud for nearly two months.”

“Yeah, but - these people find knees too salacious,” Donna pointed out kindly. “ _ Knees _ . Have you ever seen a salacious knee before? That woman over there has fainted. She has actually  _ fainted _ . That's kind of embarrassing…”

“I WILL HAVE SILENCE!” roared the boy, spit flying from his mouth to Rose’s disgust.

After months of putting up with the spoiled attitude from both the teachers and pupils and with both of her best friends having their own personal crisis, Donna no longer had the patience to stand around all night.

“Oh - fuck off,” she growled before elbowing the man holding her hostage in the face. As he went down, she saw Rose do the same to her captor as the room filled with screams. Donna scrambled to retrieve the man’s fallen gun while Rose gave the boy a kick to the crotch for good luck before copying her.

The other maid rushed forward towards Rose, who didn’t raise her gun to defend herself. Donna made a grab for John and blasted a shot into the air.

The whole thing would have looked very impressive if parts of the ceiling hadn’t proceeded to fall on her. 

Unable to talk with dust and bits of wood in her mouth, Donna simply pointed the gun at John and glared at the maid. She took the hint and backed away from Rose.

“Donna!” John was staring at her as though he was turned on and incredibly confused by it.

“Close your mouth, dumbo, and run!”   


* * *

It was almost like old times, Rose thought as she lay on a grassy knoll, looking across the playing field at the TARDIS. The Doctor and Donna were on either side of her, a full moon hanging in the sky and, if she closed her eyes, she could pretend they were having a picnic on a faraway planet.

Sadly, the illusion was easily ruined by the creepy little girl and several scarecrows gathered around the TARDIS. 

“Come out, come out, Doctor!” she called into the night. “You can’t go anywhere without your precious ship!”

“He isn’t real,” whimpered John. “He’s a - a figment of my imagination. I  _ can’t _ be the Doctor.”

Donna sighed and leant over Rose to look at him. “I don't want to treat you like an idiot, John, but the flipping space and time ship of your dreams is sat right there.”

“But -”

He may have been another man, a man who had been nothing but unkind to her for the past two months, but he still wore the Doctor’s face. Seeing him so upset, unsure and scared made her heart go out to him. She couldn’t imagine what he was going through.

Rose took his hand a squeezed his fingers. “We need him,” she told him softly.

He tore his eyes away from the TARDIS and onto her and then their hands. Still breathing heavily, he frowned, almost as if he remembered all the times she’d been there before. Was that what had been missing the whole time? Did he just need that connection, that hand to hold, to realise deep down that he knew who she was?

“Why are you holding my hand?” he asked bluntly.

Rose snatched her hand away with a sigh. “I give up.”

Donna, who had been watching the exchange with baited breath, rolled her eyes as she got up and patted John on the back. “C'mon, Spaceman, let's get you your brain and your girl back.”

Rose went to follow her, but John’s voice held her back.

“Girl?” He stared at Rose and she gave him a hopeful smile. His face split into a wide grin. “Oh, of course - the TARDIS!”

John skipped down the lane, leaving Rose lying face down in the grass, planning on apologising to the Doctor the moment they got him back for ever thinking he was oblivious.

* * *

 

Explosions rained down outside. Rose watched in horror from the window, wondering how it had came to this. 

Admittedly it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. The Family, for all their talk, had terrible aim and were bombing the farmer’s field. There was nothing they could do to help the cows, but they were getting better and would soon be hitting the village.

She longed to join the villagers and help evacuate or build impromptu bomb shelters, but Rose knew they could end it in the cottage. They just needed to convince a man his entire life was a lie and he was really an alien.

It was surprisingly even more difficult than it sounded in her head.

“I’m sorry, Mr Smith,” said the shamefaced student that had found them on the way here. He hadn’t had chance to explain why he was looking for them at first as Donna had grabbed him by the collar to make sure they could keep him safe. When he had explained he had taken the fob watch, she looked as though she was considering making him stand outside all night instead.

“Timothy, you haven’t done anything wrong. This is all nonsense,” John reassured him. 

From where Rose was standing it didn’t look entirely reassuring as he was trembling and teary, but maybe the thought would count.

“We’ve been through this, John,” sighed Donna. “It’s all true. We need him. We need the Doctor.”

Donna’s plea was the final straw for the man. Seeing John distressed, but showing none of the Doctor’s usual theatrics made Rose bite her lip. He was his own person and they asking him to die.

“But why can I not be John Smith?” he cried. “This Doctor - he sounds awful! Why can’t I be me?”

Donna approached him and laid a hand on his arm. The contact calmed him, though he was still breathing heavily.

“Because I've seen him,” she told him, though her eyes were lost in the distance, remembering her friend. “He's like E-numbers and bumper cars and CeBeebies. He's like a constant headache and standing on Lego and that condescending aunt who will just not leave you alone for five minutes at a wedding. He's annoying and frustrating. He can mope for hours and will drive you potty in seconds and… He's wonderful.”

Though half of Donna’s words would have meant nothing to him, the affection she held for the Doctor was evident. He swallowed and gripped Donna’s hands, trying to keep himself tethered to reality as it raced away from him.

“When I kissed you-” 

“Tried to-” Donna corrected with a glance at Rose. 

“Was that not real?”

“No. Next question.”

The look on John’s face could have convinced Rose he’d just been told he’d have to clean his room and cook his own breakfast for a month. He backed away from Donna and her sympathetic expression before railing on Rose herself.

“If you were supposed to look after me - him,” he yelled, making Timothy jump but Rose didn’t blink. “You just sat and _ watched _ as I fell - just watched me and Nurse Noble-”

“I tried to stop you!” she fired back. “We didn't know how! You gave us instructions but they didn't include this!”

John’s jaw dropped, the tears glistening on his cheeks. “He didn't consider falling in love? What kind of man is that?” 

Before Rose could respond, Donna did, so softly they barely heard it over the noise outside.

“One that already has.”

Everyone in the cottage froze, except Timothy who was warily watching the destruction through the window, probably wondering when the melodrama would end and the life saving would begin.

“Donna,” Rose warned her. 

“With whom?” asked John, glancing from to the other. Rose wasn’t sure why this secret seemed to be the one that scandalised him the most. After all, they’d lied to him about everything else.

Donna was staring at her as though she was at their wedding, eyes brimming with pride and tears. It was times like this she wondered if any of them realised just how much this lifestyle changed them to accept situations like this as perfectly normal.

Chewing on her thumbnail, Rose waited for divine intervention to save her. She had no doubt that the Doctor loved her, it was just a case of working out what that meant to him. It was clear from John’s behaviour around Donna what it was for him, but adding that into the mess they were in didn’t seem like the next logical step. If anything, heaping a ton more emotional distress on him could potentially be fatal at this point.

There was another explosion outside, much closer that the previous ones, and Rose sighed. 

She tried to stop her hand shaking as she took the fob watch from Timothy and walked over to John. He eyed the watch with contempt when she held it out.

“Why don't you find out for yourself?”

With a trembling hand, he reached out and grasped the watch. As his skin made contact with it and her palm, Rose’s vision burst into white stars. Though she knew she was still in the dark cottage, could smell the woodsy scent around her and feel her feet on the flagged stone floor, her mind was far away in another time, another place.

Something grabbed her hand and she felt the sensation as though it were a ghost limb. In her head she ran and flew and fell and always with someone holding her hand. Then visions of picnics and laughs and hugs faded into one another. An orange space suit. A dance in a brightly lit room. A kiss haloed in golden light.

Finally the barrage of images stopped racing and solidified into the tangible feeling of belonging she always had when she was with the Doctor.

John withdrew his hand, the watch clutched tightly in his fist, and gaped at her. She flashed him a smile and he broke eye contact.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Excuse me,” Timothy coughed. “I don’t mean to be rude, but can we stop the attack now?”

The whole room turned to John, who was turning the watch over in his palm. 

“I suppose we should,” he whispered. “If you could all...” He gestured vaguely at the door.

“Of course,” Donna said gently.

John stepped forward to shake Timothy’s hand and thank him.

“Nurse Noble, it was a pleasure to meet you,” he told her afterwards and Donna pulled him into a hug. She and Timothy moved towards the exit and Rose followed.

As they reached the door, John called out to them.

“Wait!” Once he had their attention he didn’t seem to know what to do with it and settled for staring at Rose. “Miss Tailor-”

“Ty- oh, forget it.”

“It has… um… I...” he trailed off, blushing.

Donna sighed when he showed no signs of finishing his sentence. “You really are crap at this human thing.”

With one last pitying look at John Smith, she ushered the others out of the cottage and into the night.

* * *

 

“I’m sorry.”

“You’ve said.”

“Really. So, so sorry.”

Donna stopped in front of the TARDIS  and closed her eyes, clearly begging for the last scrap of her patience. “We’ve done the forgiving bit. Now can we please move onto forgetting?”

“I’ll make it up to you,” the Doctor promised.

“I’m listening.”

The Doctor looked panicked. Clearly he hadn’t quite work out just how he was going to make it up to Donna.

“Spa weekend!”

Rose rolled her eyes. Whenever he annoyed Donna - which was fairly frequently - they would always mysteriously end up at a spa the next trip. She claimed it wouldn’t work every time, but usually came back fully relaxed and speaking to him again.

“This wasn’t finishing my chocolate,” Donna pointed out. “No. This was borderline torture in itchy clothing. You’ve gotta do better than that, Time Boy.”

If Rose wasn’t much mistaken, the Doctor was sweating. “A spa weekend - in the future! In space! On - on - on a planet made of diamonds!”

Donna considered this. “Diamonds.”

He nodded. “What could possibly go wrong?”

“Now you’ve said that? Everything.” Donna turned to Timothy. “And you-” She flicked his ear lobe. “That’s for stealing the watch. Now, I’m off to catch up on Emmerdale. Do not disturb me.”

She walked into the TARDIS without another word. Rose made a mental note to drop some food by the TV room. She knew Donna well enough to know that once she started the omnibus, she wouldn’t pause it for anything.

Timothy said his goodbyes to the Doctor who gave him the watch and Rose kept her comments about encouraging thievery to herself. He walked away with a wave in her direction, leaving Rose alone with the Doctor for the first time since he turned back into his old self.

The only thing Rose could think of that was more pregnant than the pause they were standing in was the cephalopod-like race they met a few months ago that gave birth to litters of three hundred.

She smiled at him and he blushed. 

“All that stuff about…” Rose faltered. “Just needed you to save the day. Stop you mooning over Donna.”

The Doctor groaned. “I know, I know. Thanks. Especially for the last part,” he added ruefully.

“Yeah, the bad flirting was too painful to watch.”

“I assure I'm much better at courting than that.”

“Well, you can walk in a straight line and remember people's names. It's a good start.” 

He laughed and Rose relaxed. They were joking like they always used to. Like one of them hadn’t been a poor imitation of themselves for weeks. It was like no time had past at all.

Rose wished the same could be said for her nails, which had been wrecked by all the manual labour she had been doing, but it was a start.

“Sorry about that. Seems I over did blocking you out with the Chameleon Arch,” he said. The sincerity in his voice caught Rose off guard. It had been so long since she had spoken to him, that she was surprised by the little mannerisms she had fondly remembered and feared she would never see again.

It was this more than anything else that made her ask her next question.

“Why?” 

The Doctor shrugged and avoided her eye. “You know what humans are like. Do stupid, impulsive things given half the chance.”

“Like change species?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. She took a step towards him that he matched with a cheeky smile.

“And unleash a tirade of foul language.” 

“Invite their best mate to a dance by falling down some stairs.”

“Trying it on with their best mate,” he said with an embarrassed hair ruffle. 

Rose watched the strands fall back into completely different places from where they started. He was grinning at her with his hair a mess and his eyebrow arched and-

He was the Doctor. Not just his face or his voice, but really, truly him.

“Yeah.” Rose wasn’t surprised when she wasn’t able to talk louder than a whisper. “Very human thing to do, that.”

Without waiting for a reply, she grabbed his tie and pulled him forward. Their lips crashed together with a muffled cry of shock from the Doctor that quickly gave way to a moan. Rose backed them up until his back hit the TARDIS door and they didn’t have to worry about unimportant things like balance. 

Rose ran her fingers through his hair, hoping they would never again be flattened into a neat Edwardian style. It was a crime that it had been allowed to happen at all, let alone for so long.

When the initial enthusiasm abated and the Doctor’s clutching hands settled against her back, Rose pulled away.

“It happens daily,” she said breathlessly.

He blinked down at her. She kissed the pouty bottom lip that he had left hanging open.

“Welcome back, Doctor.”

Rose patted his cheek and pushed the TARDIS door open, smirking at the look of stunned awe on his face. She just hoped she would be able to maintain it until after he realised she had hidden pears all over his TARDIS bedroom.


End file.
